En Mémoire
by Jeva
Summary: Unable to grant Prussia's request for music, Old Fritz asks Prussia to play something for him instead.


Once again, Prussia was finding it difficult to locate a certain king who had a bad habit of keeping to himself. As the years went on, the man lost his friends and found little reason to replace them. Only so much time left in this world, after all. Damn pessimistic if practical, the kingdom thought to himself as he stalked his way to his king's favored study.

If there was one thing Prussia was loathed to dwell on, it was the eventual and inevitable passing of this man he favored above all others.

It was because of this that he was noisier than usual throwing open the door. "If I didn't know better," he loudly proclaimed as he strode in a few steps, stopping just in front of the door itself, hands at his hips, "I would think you were trying to entomb yourself among musty old books."

The aging king did not even so much as twitch, merely turning his head to acknowledge the supposed young man with a rare smile. "Perhaps I am," he replied before turning back to his writing. "It is a great deal more peaceful."

Prussia's lips twisted just before he leaned back to poke his head out into the hall and call, "Someone have a plaque made!"

Friedrich sighed tolerantly as his companion then kicked the door shut. "You will remain obstinately crude, won't you."

"You wouldn't have me any other way," said Prussia smartly as he marched up beside his king, turning to lean against the wall beside the desk. "Try as you might, the French influence will only go so far."

"And here I thought you would have liked the name I've chosen for you in my notes," replied Friedrich with a wry humor, the playful tone of his youth coming out just barely.

The sound of it warmed Prussia's heart even while he rolled his eyes and leaned forward to tap at the top of the writing desk. "You do know my actual name won't change even with this."

"Truly?" asked Friedrich, leaning back and giving into the distraction the apparently younger man provided. "Even though you have had a different name in the past?"

The kingdom made a rude noise at that. "I won't let anyone take this name from me. I took it as mine and it will stay that way."

As though considering the idea of it seriously for a moment, Friedrich said nothing. Prussia knew better. He was tired. He tired so quickly these days, and it made the not-man's heart clench. Despite whatever ridicule or jests he would make regarding the king's more depressing behavior, there was no denying the truth of what was waiting before them.

More subdued, the pale-haired young kingdom shifted his footing for a moment before bringing his garnet eyes up from the writing desk. "Play me a song, Old Fritz," he asked, voice still as rough and light as before. "Something on that damnable flute of yours."

Friedrich gave another smile. Wane but tolerant. Patient. Thoughtful. "You know I've not been able to carry a note for some time now," he simply answered.

Prussia knew very well. The silence in the parlors had shown that much. His eyes darted back to the desk, to the ink and the parchment. 'I find myself missing it. Those troublesome pieces you played," he muttered.

Friedrich allowed him his rude phrasing, merely replying, "You've accompanied me more than once when I have played."

Heat pooled into the supposed youth's face just as he removed his hand from the writing desk once more. "That is not what I am meant for. You know better," he said, eyes moving to glance at his king before he focused on the cuffs of his sleeves.

"And yet, you play so delicately when you put your mind to it," returned Friedrich with another tolerant smile. Perhaps not on his face, but Prussia could plainly hear it and made to argue once more. He only stopped short when the man then asked of him, "Play me one of our duets. Surely you must remember at least one. I want to hear at least one part of it once more."

Again, there was a tightening sensation in his chest, and Prussia found he could not deny him this request. "My hands aren't meant for such things," he said plaintively as he marched himself slowly but stiffly over to the piano in the study. "But for you, Old Fritz, and no one else... I'll make an attempt."

"Old friend, you do me honor," said Friedrich as he turned to watch the not-man seat himself.

Prussia did not even turn as he wittily retorted, "And you've still not learned your role, have you?" just as he rested his fingers awkwardly on the keys.

"On the contrary," came the long-time argument, humored by age, "I believe it may be you who still does not understand."

A rude noise accompanied the first eighth note while his voice responded on the chord, "The Scourge of Europe who guards his non-existent borders like a rabid dog."

"Come now. You sound nearly depressed."

"What? I am proud to have that reputation!" Prussia gave a laugh as he slowly played cheerful notes meant to accompany a lilting and singing flute. "To have what I have now—they won't take it from me. And my reputation and my actions will give them all the more reason to think twice before crossing me."

He glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of the king with his eyes closed, simply listening.

"You cannot know what lies ahead," said the man slowly, leaning back in his stiff-backed chair. "What I have done for you may very well be unmade."

Prussia cursed as a wrong note sang woefully from the instrument.

"C major, if I am not mistaken," was all Friedrich had to say on the matter.

The kingdom scowled and picked up from there, keeping himself from turning to look over again as his face flushed once more. "I told you I'm not meant for this. Call for that fool Austria if you want music so badly."

Friedrich seemed to give a silent laugh at that. "Perhaps I am more interested in seeing you tamed, my dear Prussia," he said lightly while the young kingdom made the mistake of hitting two keys where they did not belong. "You do wear the look well."

"What look?" asked Prussia defensively, though there was no actual fire behind his words. Just embarrassment. "And I'll have you know, I am no more tamed than I was when we first met."

"Yes, yes," said his king, allowing the denial easily. It was, after all, in his kingdom's nature to loath being viewed as vulnerable. "Though I worry and despair of you ever having such a look toward one of your own kind."

Here, the playing stopped, and Prussia turned to give the elder man a proper frown. "None will ever see that look from me," he said firmly.

Friedrich gave a bit of a smile, almost bitter. "Do not promise such things so easily," he said with his own firmness, gentle though it was. "I would not ask you to always be as you have been. I would not have you always alone."

A long silence stretched between the two before Prussia put his hands heavily down on the ivory keys and stood himself up as the piano loudly sang its protest. "I have made it this far without anyone but my own people," he said tightly, turning to face his king. "Why would I want anyone who would eventually come to betray me? All the others have done—what I have done... it's our nature—!"

"But," interrupted Friedrich calmly, as if facing the start of a childish tantrum, "it is also in your nature—perhaps not the others' but solely yours—to abhor being alone."

"And I am not alone!" declared Prussia sharply as he made his way quickly in front of his king where he then took a knee and leaned forward, hands to the chair's arms. "I have you. I have my people and I have you. That will be all I ever need."

A sorrowful look seemed to cross the man's features before he put a hand to that perpetually youthful face which turned readily to greet the touch, old and worn though it was. "People are weak things, my dear friend," he said quietly, voice weakened at the thought of his own mortality. "They do not last. I will not last."

"With me, you will," insisted Prussia, his own tone soft and yet fiery as the look in his eyes as he reached up to place his hand against his king's. "Kiss me, Fritz, so I'll not forget."

Friedrich gave a sigh. "You are the reason I have a certain reputation with young cadets," he said with a more dry humor before leaning forward to place a kiss on Prussia's brow.

With a small smirk, the kingdom replied, "I will have your affection even if I have to fight that Frenchman for it."

He went quiet again as the man place two more kisses on his face, one on each cheek.

Friedrich brushed his thumb against the pale, smooth skin of this supposed youth. "You need not ever ask for my affection," he stated with surety.

Prussia closed his eyes and leaned into his touched, feeling his heart twist as he tried not to think on what it would be like without this man, his king. Time would soon enough come. And when that time came, he would be indignant on his king's behalf, as his final wishes would go ignored for centuries. Many years would pass with many faces and many names, but always, that affection would remain.

Until that time, Prussia will complain of how he will never be one for music. Friedrich will then ask for yet another song.

And that man's wishes, he will never deny.

.

.fin.

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><p><em>Author's Notes:<em> Ffffff I fail at ever posting anything I write right away.

I also ship this liek whoa (though you know the Frenchman mentioned is totes Voltaire :B)


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